A Field Day in Numenor
by Celridel
Summary: The Valar take a day off and go to Numenor.


"Shall we go in?" said Tulkas cheerfully and Namo glared at him. Cheerful people were quite annoying, and Tulkas was doubly so. As for his spouse, Nessa, she drove the Lord of the Dead mad, stark, raving mad to be precise. Vairë gave him a warning glance as he glowered.

They entered the markets, unaware of the turmoil they caused. Fair men and women gorgeous beyond reckoning dressed in the most beautiful clothes ever woven were not often seen, even in Númenor. The Válar wandered around, until a horrified scream broke from Yavanna and she sank down before a stand that sold fruit and vegetables, a appalled shriek ringing through the bustling market place. Instantly all was silent as the tall woman, black hair as ebony waters, eyes as green as beech leaves, and a face divine knelt down and wept. Aulë patted his wife on the shoulder while Nienna, who never weeps for herself, burst instantly into consoling tears. "T-they destroyed m-my plants." sobbed Yavanna. Esté stepped forward, the Valà of rest and peace, and comforted the lamenting Kementári.

Nessa, unperturbed of the commotion behind her, moved forward with a dancer's grace. She, though not the least beautiful, was more approachable than the rest. Her delicate and perfectly featured face drew attention wherever she went, as well as her red-gold curls. A young man came by her, a roguish smile on his face. "Good morning, Fair Lady." he laughed, putting a hand around her waist.

And Tulkas laughed. He laughed, his golden beard bristling with anger and with one gigantic blow felled the impudent youth. Nessa stared at her admirer aghast, and retreated to Varda's side, who laid a hand on her shoulder. "He was just being friendly, I think." she murmured.

"I think he had more than friendship on his mind." muttered Irmo.

"Child, I suggest you associate more with people. Deer are very beautiful, but you need some social skills." said Varda kindly.

Nessa shrugged. "Maybe." and stepping over the prostrate form continued on her merry way. Varda ran a hand through her glossy black hair, unaware of how many people walked into solid buildings at that motion. Manwë smiled, knowing full well how gorgeous his wife was.

Vàna glanced at some flowers held in a young girl's hand, and immediately they stood up and bloomed, opening violet heads to the sky. The girl screamed, dropped the flowers and fled. Vàna shrugged, tossed her golden hair and continued.

A little beyond, Tulkas nudged Irmo, and together they hastily shielded a stand that carried meat from Nessa's view, but the ever inquisitive Dancer peered behind him and gave a wail of horror. "Venison! They killed my deer!" And Nienna, ever-obliging, began to cry once more. Esté, who was tired of comforting people, merely suggested that they put the three crying ones in the middle of the circle. It was done, and they continued on. As the Válar progressed, the high-pitched wails of a child began to assault their sensitive ears, and the exasperated sound of woman exclaiming. "Oh Irmo! Why will you not sleep!"

Irmo, who was good-hearted, came over to the place where he heard his name being uttered and said. "How can I help you?"

The woman stared at him with wide, terrified eyes and merely squeaked. Irmo had senses enough to look into the cradle, where he saw the screaming child. With a shrug, he laid his hand on its head and immediately all was silent. Taking a deep breath, he rejoined the group.

Oromë was examining some of the weapons for sale, looking unimpressed. Vairë gave a little wail as she examined a booth that sold tapestries. "Who wove this?!" she demanded, holding it up.

The woman smiled at her. "My mother, Lady. She is the chief weaver of Númenor, and well renowned."

"Chief weaver." whispered Vairë weakly. "Chief weaver." she repeated, falling back against her husband.

"Their tapestries deserve to be thrown into the Timeless Void, for they are as bad as Morgoth!" she announced after having gotten back to the group. Varda nodded comfortingly. "Of course, tis so. For you are the greatest weaver in Arda and without."

Vairë, somewhat consoled, went along. Vàna, who was holding onto Oromë's arm, was tripping blithely forward. Birds had begun to sing with a raucous sound, and she looked somewhat startled, for they sounded quite different from the melodies at home. Flowers were blooming all around her, at booths and in people's hands, and they shrank away from her in wonder and awe, and at the sight of her somewhat overpowering husband, who was holding the hand of a dainty and gorgeous woman in his left with flowers crowning her golden hair, and a gigantic spear in his right.

Manwë had been examining a fish booth with interest. "I think my eagles would like this."

Varda gave him a warning look out of midnight-blue eyes. "Do not even think of it. It was cause havoc. Your eagles are huge, clumsy and somewhat annoying."

Manwë looked hurt, until she kissed his cheek.

"I am done here." sniffled Yavanna finally.

"I want to go home!" wailed Nessa. "They killed my deer!"

Kementári had been doing nobly, though she stiffened at every slaughtered pear and massacred lettuce, but finally she had come upon a particularly bruised apple lying alone on the pavement and had dissolved into tears once more, leaving Aulë to awkwardly pat her back. "Darling, we are being stared at."

"I-I don't care." whimpered Yavanna. "They are horrid, terrible people and I want to go home!"

"Me too!" joined Nessa, sobbing and Nienna was forced to lament a lot that day.

Varda had noticed another person crying, namely a young woman on a doorstep. "Esté, would you greatly mind comforting her?"

Esté crossed her arms with a scowl. "I am done comforting people." she snapped. Varda sighed and shoved Manwë towards the girl. "Go help her."

The Valà approached the mortal uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and offered weakly. "C-can I help you?"

"M-my lover left me." she sobbed.

Manwë glanced helplessly towards his Star-Queen. He had never had any problems of that nature. "Em, maybe it means he wasn't right. You need to find another one."

She looked up at him through her lashes. "Like you?" she said suggestively.

Manwë snapped then, right before his wife did. "Mortals are despicable!" he shouted, his voice rolling like holy thunder across the crowded market place. People fell down left and right.

Varda stomped over, snatched her husband and glared at the girl. "He-is-my-husband." she snarled, annunciating each word. "Look at him the wrong way again and I will smite with an exploding star!"

The girl squeaked and then began to scream bloody murder.

"Put her to sleep." ordered Manwë crossly, as Irmo muttered. "Why I am doing all the work?"

He snapped his fingers, and instantly the place was silent. "What did you do?" questioned Nienna through her tears.

"I put them all to sleep." growled Irmo. "They'll wake up when we're gone."

"I'm going now!" said Nessa crossly. Tulkas patted her on the back and said meekly. "Yes dear."

"Don't make jokes! Now is an awful time!" yelled Nessa, right before Tulkas realized his mistake. "Yes….love." he said even more meekly.

When they were fairly far away from Númenor, Irmo snapped his fingers, and the Vàlar continued on. Yavanna had relaxed somewhat, now that they were out in the unspoiled meadows, but Nessa sobbed in Tulkas's arms every time she saw a deer caper about.

Mandos smiled. No more jokes, no more laughter, not while Nessa was crying. She grated on his nerves when she was dancing. Aulë was surveying the stone work and thinking it wasn't too shabby.

Manwë was muttering something about obliterating the human race. Varda agreed with him, adding in a few Vàlar-like swear words. Nienna was still crying. Irmo was complaining about how he needed beauty sleep, and Esté, now thoroughly worn out, snapped that it would take a couple thousand years.

Vairë was getting worried about why her husband was smiling. It wasn't like him.

And in the back, Vàna and Oromë looked the picture of matrimonial contentment, flowers, spears and all.


End file.
